“Who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, aren't we all just a little crazy?”
The random thoughts and ramblings of a sleep deprived, attention deficient, cursing and extremely sarcastic Facebook addict... Where's my iPhone?

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Saturday, December 3, 2016

Pants on Fire

“Just gonna stand
there and watch me burn, but that’s alright because I like the way it
hurts. Just gonna stand there and hear
me cry, but that’s alright because I love the way you lie…”

It is necessary to
take a moment to own up to the fact that I have a hand in all of this as
well. Obviously, I have come to accept
certain things from people I call friends, boyfriends…. Anyone I care about. I
have become so accustomed to being lied to, used, let down, bossed around,
subjugated, hurt, spoken to in any manner, physically violated, and
harmed. Perhaps there is a part of me
that expects that and does not feel correct unless these things happen? I have
often wondered what it is about me that attracts these sorts of people, I am
after all the only common denominator.

I allowed myself to
follow the delusions of Gilberto (not his real name…) and go along with the
stories he told. Despite my gut feeling that it was all made up and pure ego or
fantasy I listened and indulged him. I
attempted to build a relationship around his framework of lies and deceit, only
because of Baby Girl and my longing that she have a Daddy. One drunken night, one tiny miracle, and I
try desperately to pull the threads of a relationship together based on
that. All the while I give up a man I liked
quite a lot, trusted very much, and was on my way to falling head over heels
for… we were not in a relationship and had made no promises to each other but I
like to think we were thinking about it.
It helps me feel less useless. I’d
be lying if I said I’d love to have a man like him so why do I sabotage these
relationships and tumble head long into ones I know will only end in heart
ache?

Gilberto was so full
of crap from minute one, it is plain to see now. I knew from his constant preening and
peacocking that he was not straight about everything. Since we had been friends for so long I did
not put much thought into it because I never thought of him as anything more
than that, Gilberto was just a drinking buddy, who told fabulously tall
tales. He did not own the house he
claimed to, it belongs to his grandparents.
The vehicles in his driveway are not his, but again his
grandparents. He claimed wonderful
things about a mysterious beach house in Oak Island, all three stories, right
on the beach with jacuzzi tubs set into the three balconies overlooking the ocean. This house at the beach sounded so grand it
might as well have come with staff straight out of Downton Abbey. In fact, the house at the beach is a small
trailer, beach view adjacent. He claimed
it would be part of his inheritance, it was recently bequeathed to his Aunt.

It was plain to me
that his son, sweet boy, did not have a bad case of hero worship when it came
to his father as Gilberto would have you believe. Instead his son sees his father for what he
is, and is building a very big wall around his heart because of it. His daughter is much the same, lovely girl,
but she knows her father is an abusive jerk that is full of hot air. Out of Gilberto’s presence the children laugh
at the bloviations of their father… how sad for him that he is so blind to the
things he is doing, the hurts he is causing. The laughter of the children hides
the very real pain they feel at having to endure his fantasies.

Instead of coaching his son at football, as
he claimed, he rarely shows up to even a game much less a practice. Since he has never held down a job longer than
two weeks, much less owned an actual business as he had convinced me (he
seriously left for work every day and went God knows where for a few hours and
would come home), he cannot provide for his children. Mine included. I have no idea how he is managing to pay for
the new brother, to my Baby Girl, but I suspect it is his grandparents
again. His ex-wife and mother to his
first two children does what she can and is doing famously but it is so sad
because other things could be done too if only he would man up and act his age.
His daughter would love to take
gymnastics, but he is too selfish to get a job to pay for her dream and it just
is not something ex-wife can manage at the moment. So, he sits on the couch day in and day out
bossing around his new girl, telling her whatever stories he has concocted for
her and drinks and smokes things.

His new girl is a real
piece of work, just like him she lies and cheats at life. She gets hundreds of dollars a month in
benefits for her first four children…. None of which live with her or in this
state. Now she has a new baby boy, that
neither of them is prepared for or capable of taking care of. They both have a fondness for pills and
drinking and God knows what else… he hid his addictions from me until the
end. My suspicion would be that she
leaves him high and dry with the new baby as soon as things get difficult like
she has with her other children. Not
before she gets more benefits though, because why not?

What is it about me
that attracts guys like this? Why is it if there is one in a 25-mile radius
will he find me like a moth to flame? Why do I seem to exist on this sort of
drama and lies? When I totally hate drama,
and lying; I do not need the additional headache. Why do I accept it from those closest to me? I
have stopped speaking to people I knew less closely because of their drama and
issues with the truth, so why do I accept it from some and in many ways,
protect them from it? Do I really love
the way someone lies? Is that even possible?